


If I Die Young

by searchingwardrobes



Series: Fandom Birthday Playlist [21]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Enchanted Forest, Angst, Captain Duckling, F/M, Greek Mythology - Freeform, She's Only Mostly Dead, lol, major character death but in OUAT fashion she doesn't stay dead, my own version of Hades
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 18:04:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19090288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/searchingwardrobes/pseuds/searchingwardrobes
Summary: Killian reached the edge of the river and sank carefully to his knees beside the bed of reeds and roses he had spent all night weaving together. He deposited his love gently upon it, the soft petals of the middlemist roses seeming to embrace her. He stepped back, pressing his eyes closed in a silent prayer before pushing the precious cargo gently into the water. He clung to the tenuous hope that the rumors were true; that this river fed into the most legendary of waters: the River Styx.A Captain Duckling Enchanted Forest AU where Killian goes to the Underworld for Emma instead of the other way around. Based on the song by The Band Perry.





	If I Die Young

**Author's Note:**

> For @followbatb on tumblr for her birthday.

_ If I die young, bury me in satin. Lay me down on a bed of roses. Sink me in the river at dawn. Send me away with the words of a love song.  _

Princess Emma’s arms swung limp against black leather.  Her head was flung back at an uncomfortable angle, her long golden hair tumbling like a waterfall. She hadn’t gone completely cold yet, but her face was unnaturally pale, her lips void of color. 

Captain Killian Jones, known by most as the fearsome pirate Hook, carried his load with a grim face, a single tear tracking down one cheek. He should have known the Dark One would take this love from him just as he had once taken  Milah . He had doomed the princess from the moment they met. He should have stayed far away from her, but he was weak. Weak or his Emma was too stubborn and feisty to take no for an answer. Probably both. 

He reached the edge of the river and sank carefully to his knees beside the bed of reeds and roses he had spent all night weaving together. He deposited his love gently upon it, the soft petals of the  middlemist  roses seeming to embrace her. They seemed fitting. It was a field of  middlemist  roses where they had shared their first kiss. Ever since, they always made him think of her and the love they shared. She looked exquisite, even in death, her white satin dress giving her the aura of a goddess. He bent and kissed her cold lips, another tear falling upon her cheek as he pulled back. Those weren’t the lips he had come to love; they weren’t warm or pliant or eager. 

He stepped back, pressing his eyes closed in a silent prayer before pushing the precious cargo gently into the water. He clung to the tenuous hope that the rumors were true; that this river fed into the most legendary of waters:  the  River Styx. If not, he would most likely be dead in a matter of days. No one would believe that Emma had not died by his hand. He was a pirate, after all, one with a vicious hook at that. Her body disappearing wouldn’t bode well for him either, nor the secrecy of their romance. He was bound for the gallows if this didn’t work. 

He would welcome the gallows if this didn’t work.

The little raft bobbed gently on the water, the current taking it softly as a fog rolled in. Killian was scarcely aware of his feet taking him into the waters, his eyes straining as he waded in, desperate not to lose sight of his love. Yet the fog was unrelenting, and he could no longer see her golden hair or the blush of the roses. Tears coursed down his face now, his chin falling to his chest as his eyes slid closed. 

“Come aboard.”

Killian startled, looking up to see a dark hooded figure aboard a small boat. He stood in the bow, extending his bony hand to Killian, yet he could not see the being’s face. 

“Come aboard, mortal. The Queen Persephone wants an audience with you.” When Killian still hesitated, the being sighed in irritation. “It is what you seek, is it not? A way to save your love from the Underworld?”

At that, Killian shook off this stupor, and took the sailor’s hand. Charon, he realized, ferryman for the dead. How the craft sailed, he had no idea. It had neither sails nor oars, yet it glided through the misty waters all the same.  All concept of time fled Killian’s mind, and before he knew it, they were on a dark and foreboding shore. 

Wraiths swooped through the air, and the fog seemed ever present as Killian made his way to the castle not far from the river. Charon had stayed behind, assuring Killian that he needed no guide. The man (being?) had been right. Something intangible seemed to pull him towards the castle, keeping him on the right path. 

The castle itself was made of something like obsidian, it’s towers black and sharpened to points. The gate was made of a mixture of charred bones and spikes that resembled black ice. They opened for Killian automatically, and an invisible hand seemed to push him forward. 

The floor was ebony marble, polished like glass. The throne room was empty but for the two thrones at the far end. The one on the right was as black and sharp as everything else, the man upon it white as a corpse in contrast. Yet Hades was handsome in a sharp and angular way, his long elegant fingers idly petting one of the large heads of Cerberus, the three headed  dog  of the Underworld. The imposing creature, as large as a horse and broad as a lion, hummed through one of its frothing jaws, taking obvious pleasure in its master’s ministrations. Yet the other two large heads growled as Killian drew near. 

“Calm Cerberus, dear,” the figure on the left said gently. 

Queen Persephone, in contrast, was soft and bright in every way. Her skin was tanned, like someone who spent most of her time in the sun. Her hair was a soft brown like earth turned over in the spring. Her eyes were as a bright blue as the sky, her lips and cheeks as rosy as flower petals. Life itself married to death. It was a perplexing picture. 

Hades gave a command to Cerberus, and all three heads immediately calmed, resting their chins on the dais. Hades turned to Killian then,  steepling  his long fingers beneath his chin. Yet when he spoke, he addressed his wife. 

“You know they always look back. Why  waste  your time?”

“Love is never a waste,” Persephone argued. Hades actually smiled then, clasping his wife’s hand and bringing it to his pale lips. Persephone smiled fondly in return, then looked back at Killian. She rose from her throne, made of cherry wood instead of black marble, and stepped down from the dais to approach the pirate. 

“I am honored to be in your presence, goddess,” Killian said as he bowed. He didn’t think “majesty” was the right word for a deity, and hoped he had addressed her correctly. 

He was relieved when the goddess smiled at him. “I think you just might be different from the others, Killian Jones. A princess and a pirate, a most unlikely pair. Like the god of the dead and the goddess of spring. Most people think my husband tricked me into eating that pomegranate, but I ate it willingly.”

Killian was surprised at the fondness in her eyes. Persephone turned then and snapped her fingers. A young woman in a gown of deep purple and a bronze colored hooded cape hurried to the goddess’s side. 

“Guide Captain Jones down the hidden road out of the Underworld.” 

“Yes, my queen,” the woman said, bowing low.

Persephone turned to Killian again. “I am sure you have heard the tale of Orpheus.”

Killian bowed once again. “Aye, most honorable Queen, I am not to look back or I will lose my love.”

Persephone gently took  Killian’s  chin and lifted his gaze to hers. “That is right. Go and do not look back.” 

The sad expression on her face wasn’t at all encouraging. Neither was the sinister expression on her husband’s. He had the oddest feeling this was a game to them. 

Nevertheless, he followed the hooded woman out of the throne room and out of the castle. She led him past the desolate royal grounds, past the fields full of wraiths and fog, and into a dark and foreboding forest thick with gnarled trees and thorns. Just as they entered the woods, she turned to him and threw back her hood. She had the alabaster complexion and colorless lips of one of the  dead , yet her beauty was unfading. Her mahogany hair shimmered despite the darkness, and her chocolate brown eyes swam with both sadness and intensity. 

“I am forbidden to assist those I guide, so listen to me carefully now.”

“Who are you?” 

Her gaze lowered to the dead leaves at her feet. “One who knows more of love and loss than most can imagine.”

Killian’s eyes widened. “You’re Eurydice, the woman  Oprheus  loved. The one he almost rescued from death.” She simply nodded, and Killian’s jaw clenched. “How cruel to give you this task!”

She gave him a sad smile. “It wasn’t given to me, I requested it. Perhaps one day love will conquer death, and I wish to be there to see it.”

He clasped her hands in his one. “Thank you.”

“Now,” she said, putting her hood back over her head, “not only can you not look back, neither can you reach back.  So  keep your hands at your sides. Don’t try and check in any way that she’s there behind you. Also, Hades doesn’t want to let any soul go from his kingdom. Believe nothing you hear, no matter who the voice sounds like. And finally, you can’t look back until  _ both  _ of you are out of the tunnel to the Underworld.”

Killian nodded. He knew the story of Orpheus well, and that had been his mistake. He had stepped out into the land of the living, and thought it would be safe to look back at Eurydice. Sadly, his love had not yet crossed the threshold, and she had disappeared like mist before his eyes. The voices she was warning him not to listen to had to be Emma’s, who else could tempt him to look back? So he filed that away as well. He threw back his shoulders and drew in a steeling breath. He could do this. For Emma.

“I’m ready.”

Eurydice nodded. “I can’t look back either once we begin, so keep your eyes on me and don’t stray from the path. Emma is to keep her eyes on you in the same way, so she is depending on you as well.”

Killian swallowed hard, and sent up a quick prayer to whatever god or goddess would listen and take mercy on them. Eurydice faced forward and plunged into the wood. 

Killian quickly learned that it wasn’t just what the voices said. ( _ Are you sure she’s really there? Can you really trust Hades? What about your brother? Doesn’t he deserve to be saved too? Don’t you love him just as much?)  _ It was the pull they had on him, the tugging on his heart to doubt, to fear. It took much more willpower than he had anticipated not to give in to their suggestions to glance back or turn around and go back for his brother. And though he had been prepared for Emma’s voice, he had underestimated how strongly it would affect him. Her pleas sounded so desperate, frightened, and broken. ( _ Help me, Killian! Please! They’re hurting me! I can’t see you! Where are you, Killian?)  _ So afraid was he of losing sight of Eurydice and getting them both lost, his eyes went dry staring at that bronze cloak as she wove between the trees. It was no simple trail, that was clear, and without a guide he and Emma would be hopelessly lost. 

Finally  yet suddenly, he was in the bright sunshine, just a few miles down the riverbank from where he had watched Emma’s body sink at dawn. The urge to spin around, to see if his love was really there was strong, but he resisted the temptation. It would be just like Hades to trick them. To tell Eurydice to guide him, then go back later for Emma. Instead, Killian went to the edge of the water. It wasn’t the ocean, but the gentle rush of the current calmed him nonetheless. He took in deep breaths as the sun sparkled on the water, praying, waiting. 

“Killian,” a familiar voice whispered at his side. The slender fingers of one of her hands wrapped around his bicep, the other closed around his hook. Though it was only cold steel, he swore he could feel the warmth of her hand through it.

He turned to look at her, her bright jade eyes, her pink lips, her rosy freckled cheeks. He choked on a sob as he pulled her close to him, breathing in the familiar cinnamon scent of her hair. He buried his fingers into the soft strands and trailed kisses along her cheeks. 

“You’re here, you’re really here,” he choked out. 

She laughed as he kissed every available spot on her face; her nose, her chin, her forehead. Then his lips found hers, and the memory of them cold and still fled as she kissed him back with abandon. They kissed until their lips were swollen and they were gasping for breath. 

“I love you,” Killian told her, his forehead pressed to hers.

“I love you, too,” Emma whispered back. 

In the shadows just beyond the threshold, Eurydice smiled beneath her bronze hood. She watched Killian Jones scoop Princess Emma into his arms, watched the princess wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him with passion and exhilarating happiness. As she turned from the scene to descend back into the cold darkness, she couldn’t wait to tell Queen Persephone that love had finally conquered death. 

_ If I die young bury me in satin. Lay me down in a bed of roses. Sink me in the river at dawn. Send me away with the words of a love song.  _


End file.
